


That one where the young couple finds an adorable puppy that they can't possibly keep

by natcat5



Series: Dark Month 2014 [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natcat5/pseuds/natcat5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That one where Aqua and Terra are walking through the woods and come across a young wolf stuck in a trap. <br/>Moral dilemmas ensue. </p><p>Part 1 of Dark Month 2014-Prompt: Vampire/Werewolf</p>
            </blockquote>





	That one where the young couple finds an adorable puppy that they can't possibly keep

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 of my attempt at Dark Month 2014.

  1. **Vampire/werewolf**



They find him on the edge of the forest, entangled in a hunter’s trap.

Young, but full-shifted, dark gold fur ragged and patchy, sticking up with dried mud in some places. Its body hung above the ground, suspended within a heavy net. The cords of rope glinted in the moonlight, telltale lacings of silver within the weaving. The young wolf was hanging limply, whining low in its throat. The silver in the rope made it weak, and still.

When it saw them though, its head lifted.

There was no doubt that Terra pitied the beast. Being caught by hunters was certain death for both their kinds. The wolf looked young as well, and probably without a pack, to be snared so easily on the night of a full moon. But wolves and vampires did not, as a rule, interact, and even as he caught a glimpse of the pained young wolf through the trees, he did not change his direction. Not even the panicked whine it made could dissuade him.

Werewolves, unlike vampires, had little to no control over themselves and their shifts. They were vicious, indiscriminate, and messy. They reminded him too much of what he had been in his youth. Called forth memories of a lack of control and discipline that he didn’t like to revisit. It had taken the death of his sire to clear his head, to steer him away from the path of a monster, and he did not want to revisit those days or be reminded of them in any way. Besides, if they freed the wolf, it would probably attack them, as instinct demanded it to. Werewolves had first been created to hunt vampires, after all.

He disregards the distraught sounds it’s making, the near-howls echoing around the empty forest, and continues marching silently forward.

Aqua, however, falters in her step. She looks back and frowns, one hand on Terra’s arm.

“It looks very young,” she comments, with a frown, “Practically a baby. Terra, we should-,”

“It’s a werewolf, Aqua,” he counters before she can finish, tone firm, “It would attack us, or worse. Trail us and lead the hunters tracking _it_ right to us. We can’t.”

Aqua’s pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, eyes dark, and turns her head again, creases in her forehead and a tenseness in her back and shoulders.

“Yes,” she began, stopping and dropping her hand from Terra’s arm, “But the Master always said solidarity was important, didn’t he?”

Terra faltered then, turning to look back at her with an almost betrayed expression. The death of their sire had been hard on both of them, but it had been near traumatic for Terra. Neither of them brought him up to the other, if they could help it, and Aqua in particular knew what memories of him did to Terra. To bring him up was almost always a deliberate manipulation tactic on her part.

His eyes narrowed, the blue bleeding gold.

“I _know_ that,” he hissed, bristling, “But staying safe is also important. We have to be practical-,”

Terra’s words cut off abruptly, and Aqua stiffened as a breeze rustled the treetops, a rush of scents carried to them on the gust of wind. A low, guttural sound vibrated in Terra’s throat and he turned away sharply, taking off at a brisk pace.

“They’re coming, Aqua,” he snapped over his shoulder, “Let’s go! We can’t be here.”

Aqua’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and she nodded once, sharply.

Then she turned and dashed through the trees towards the captured wolf, ignoring Terra’s strangled noise of exasperation.

The wolf lifted its head as it saw her, making a low, desperate sound within the confines of the net. Aqua was struck by how small it was, how young and scrawny it looked, how large and blue its eyes were, devoid of any rabid savagery, or any animalistic bloodlust. They seemed full of a very human kind of fear.

Aqua pulled the large knife she kept strapped against her back out of its sheath, and began sawing at the net, clenching her teeth as the silver touched her. It didn’t render them immobile as it did werewolves, but it was unpleasant to touch all the same.

Another moment had Terra thundering through the trees, cursing, his own knife pulled from its sheath at his hip. He attacked the other side of the net, eyes blazing yellow and fangs bared the entire time. The young wolf shrunk away from him, eyes turning towards Aqua again.

The net was not strong, the silver being enough to contain a werewolf, and the cords fray and snap within a minute. The wolf tumbles down to the ground with a yip, and lands in a mess of broken ropes and silver strands, still whimpering.

Terra makes an exasperated sound and pulls the remains of the net off of the young creature, and then immediately bounds away a few meters, looking back at Aqua impatiently.

The wolf is also looking at Aqua, staggering to its feet with an overwhelmed, still scared expression.

The scent of the hunters is getting stronger, and if she strains her ears, she can hear them as well. Aqua grits her teeth. She’s being foolish. Even the Master wouldn’t agree to staying with conditions the way they are. At this rate, all three of them will be killed.

“Where is your pack?” she asks hurriedly, “Are you alone? The hunters are coming. Where are you going to go?”

The wolf rears back, ears flat against its head and panic in its eyes. It’s gaze goes back between her and Terra frantically, before dropping to the ground. The sound it makes is low and defeated, and Aqua stifles a sigh.

“Right then,” she said, backing up, “If you can’t keep up we’ll leave you. If you lead them to us we’ll kill you. So run fast. We’re going.”

Terra seems to have picked up on what she was planning, so he’s not so much surprised as irritated, and his eyes are still bright gold. He takes off as soon as Aqua starts running, and she forces herself to not look back, to not check to see if the young wolf is following.

A few seconds later, she hears his bounding footsteps behind her, closing the distance with frightening speed, and something twists in her stomach. Of course he’d be fast enough to keep up with them. Werewolves used to hunt vampires; she shouldn’t forget that.

Terra is slower than her, so she catches up to him quickly. And the wolf, it seems, is faster than both of them, because it ends up weaving through the trees and bounding ahead of them, and then turning in a circle and going back to run beside Aqua, tail held high.

 _That_ surprises Terra, who raises his eyebrows questioningly. If it’s that fast, why wouldn’t the werewolf clear out all together? Wolves may be pack animals, but vampires are their sworn enemies, and the fact that the wolf has remained to run at their side is illogical, and unnatural.

The sky has begun to lighten by the time they’ve deemed themselves safe, at the edge of the treeline, and in the outskirts of the city. Here, with day coming, hunters won’t be able to move about so brazenly. As a rule, they have to be as careful around regular humans as the creatures they hunt.

They walk along the pavement, in the alleyways between the buildings, the wolf’s long claws clicking as they do. It’s dropped behind them, tongue lolling out of its mouth and tail slightly lowered. Their brisk trot appears to be harder for it to maintain then their sprint of before.

Terra stops in an alley, looking up at the lightened sky with golden eyes bleeding blue again. He then looks at Aqua, wordlessly communicating. She meets his gaze evenly, before sighing and turning to the wolf, who has stopped and is staring at them expectantly.

“This is where we part,” she says definitively, “You’ve lost the hunters, so you’re safer than you were. But it’s not safe for _us_ to be seen walking with a wolf. It certainly isn’t inconspicuous. And besides, dawn is coming, we need to roost. We are splitting here.”

The wolf makes a panicked, squeaking sound, almost before Aqua has finished speaking, and then whines, ears flat against its head again, tail lowered.

Aqua seems flabbergasted, and turns to Terra, who narrows his eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he says flatly, “We’re vampires, and you’re a werewolf. Did you really expect to stay in our company? Don’t act so surprised. You can’t have expected a different outcome.”

The wolf wilts again, and another whine escapes its throat. Apparently, it _did_ expect a different outcome. It shuffles on its feet, looking distressed, and moves forwards a few paces towards them.

“ _No,”_ says Aqua firmly, because the brightening sky is making her antsy, and even she can see the situation has gone too far, “We need to go further into the city to hide. And you- with a wolf ? There’s no way we’d be unnoticed. And besides, you-,”

Her words are cut off as the wolf begins to shake, as it hunches over, the fur over its body rippling. Aqua and Terra both rear back in alarm.

The golden fur begins to recede, the shape of the wolf shifting and changing, until there’s a small, human figure crouched before them. Naked, with mud and angry red welts all over its pale, pinkened skin.

When the shift is over, the werewolf stands, hugging themself nervously. Their eyes are the same bright, vibrant blue, and their hair is the same golden colour their fur had been, messy and spiked with dried mud. It stares at them nervously, and Terra has to fight the urge to drop his head into his hands. He knows what’s coming.

“I, uh, can I come with you now?” asks the young werewolf, their voice hoarse, “I mean, I know I’m naked, but-,”

“It wasn’t just about the fact that you were _physically_ a wolf,” snaps Terra, his voice almost a hiss, “It’s the fact that you’re a werewolf and we’re vampires. We don’t- we can’t- Don’t you know anything?”

The young wolf stares at Terra dumbly for a few long seconds, before narrowing their eyes.

“Then why did you free me from the net?” they ask, nose wrinkling, “If you don’t, and you can’t, then why did you?”

The response is so impudent and short, that Aqua has to stifle an unexpected bubble of laughter. Terra shoots her a betrayed look, and she turns her head, unsuccessfully concealing her smile behind her hand. The young wolf gives her a small, wry smile in return, and then turns it onto to Terra, seemingly undeterred by the glare he’s giving.

“Please?” they ask again, “I won’t be any trouble. I won’t turn into a wolf while I’m with you. I won’t howl or anything either. I’ve got good control, I swear.”

Aqua already has a somewhat fond look on her face, regarding the young wolf. Generally, she is the more practical of the two, the more serious about enforcing rules. But she has a soft heart, and such a sincere young thing is assuaging her rigidity. Terra looks like he wants to argue more, but dawn’s light is almost upon them, and he can already feel a discomfort on his skin, like an allergic reaction beginning to emerge.

“Oh _fine.”_ He snaps, already turning away, “But you’re gone when the sun sets, alright?”

The young wolf grins, and nods vigorously, bounding after Terra with long, loping steps, similar to the stride they use when they’re a wolf. Aqua falls in to step beside them and they disappear into the city, just as the first vestiges of sunlight begin to touch down.

\--

The wolf’s name is Ventus (“Call me Ven!” ) and he’s a boy, fifteen years old.

Terra throws a spare shirt and a pare of pants at him, but they’re both way too big, so he ends up wearing a pair of Aqua’s shorts and her green hoodie. He seems slightly uncomfortable in the clothes, his nose wrinkled the entire time, but he thanks her earnestly.

The abandoned apartment they’re squatting in isn’t well furnished, so while Terra and Aqua curl up on the ratty mattress, the young werewolf gets stuck in a pile of curtains on the opposite side of the room. It’s partially to do with the smell, and partially because it makes both Terra and Aqua nervous to be nesting so close to a natural enemy. He’s cute, and young, but even Aqua can’t ignore the instinctive feeling of unease he gives her.

They end up taking shifts, sleeping one at a time, so there’s always someone watching the werewolf, making sure he doesn’t try anything.

Ventus, however, passes out in his makeshift bed and doesn’t stir once. His legs kick out in his sleep occasionally, and he makes snuffling sounds, but otherwise he’s still as a stone and out like a light.

Neither Aqua nor Terra sleep well, however, and both are awake when the sky is still red and orange.

“He can’t stay here,” says Terra softly, his normally gruff tone muted as he watches the sleeping boy, “As soon as the sun goes down, Aqua. You know we have to.”

Aqua nods mutely, her face drawn and grim. Terra’s own conscience is twinging, and he’s finding it hard to remain firm on his own words. The wolf is very young. And apparently not wise to the laws of their world. Terra doesn’t feel good about his chances on his own.

The wolf awakes when the sky is almost dark, and looks around blearily for a few seconds, before his eyes rest on Aqua and Terra and light up. Ventus scrambles upright into a sitting position, staring in an expression caught between nervousness and excitement. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but a yawn breaks through instead.

Aqua makes a small sound at the back of her throat, and Terra closes his eyes briefly. The wolf is so painfully young.

“Good, um good evening,” stammers Ven, wiping tears of sleep out of the corners of his eyes, “I, uh-,”

“The sun has set,” says Aqua abruptly, her tone even, but her face still looking troubled. “Remember what we said last night?”

Ven startles, seeming surprised by the abruptness, and then his entire expression crumples, shoulders hunching. Terra feels something twist in his chest. The wolf is so _young._

But there are rules, and they exist for a reason. He disregarded them when they were younger, and the Master is dead because of it. He has no intention of repeating his mistakes. He won’t let Aqua down like that, even if she herself is wavering.

Ventus seem to recollect himself, and he straightens up, swallowing thickly a few times.

“So, um,” he begins, floundering for words, “You want me to…”

“Leave,” finishes Terra quietly, but firmly, “Now.”

There’s a finality in his tone that wasn’t there the night prior, and it’s mirrored in Aqua’s expression. The shared fear of hunters had blurred the lines between werewolf and vampire the night before, but it’s not the case now. The divide between them is palpable, both Aqua and Terra with eyes glinting gold.

The dual glare seems to hit the young wolf hard, and he shrinks back, a hurt expression on his face, before turning away. He seems to sense the difference as well. Seems to understand that he won’t be able to argue, to push, the way he did the night prior. Ven gets to his feet, slowly, bunching up the cloth of the sweater in one hand.

“The clothes…” he begins slowly, face still turned away, shoulders hunched, “Do you-,”

“Keep them,” says Aqua, cutting him off. Her face too, is now turned away. Ven’s shoulders hunch down further, and he nods, before walking across the floor of the room towards the door. His gait starts out slow, and then hastens into a jog, then a run, until he’s dashing out of the door and into the falling night.

Terra exhales heavily once he’s gone, and Aqua closes her eyes. A stretch of silence falls over the two of them, the young wolf’s scent still lingering in the room.

“He was such a young thing,” she says, breaking the silence, “Terra, I know there are rules for a reason. But the ones about vampires and werewolves- aren’t those out of date now? Wolves don’t work with hunters anymore. They haven’t for almost a century.”

“But no one’s forgotten that they once did,” Terra reminds her, “And it’s- it’s just the way things are now, Aqua. It’s better for him in the long run. If he doesn’t have a pack now, there’s no chance he’ll ever find one if he smells of vampires.”

“He’s so young though,” whispers Aqua sadly, “Who’s to say he’ll live long enough to be able to look?”

\--

Once the sun has fully set, and the moon has risen, they leave to hunt. It’s a Saturday, so they split up. The city will be busy, and safer for them, as a result. No one will notice someone being led into a back room by an attractive stranger. And any of their victims will have similar symptoms to someone intoxicated. It’s safe enough for them to hunt alone.

Terra dislikes the downtown area, particularly the club scene. It’s loud, and neon, bright flashing lights and an irritating amount of loud, boisterous people. It’s harder to pick things out by scent, and his only consolation is that it’s near impossible for hunters to strike in these kinds of environments. A night like this is full of shifty individuals; to be honest, he’s one of the more respectable looking ones.

There’s a boy who’s caught his eye. Standing tall, an arrogant glint to his eye, but on the outskirts of the crowd. He doesn’t seem to be here with anyone, doesn’t look like he has any companions who will notice him missing.

Licking his lips, Terra begins moving closer.

That’s when he hears the howl.

Or, to be more correct, that’s when _everyone_ hears the howl. High pitched and panicked, it echoes in the night air. All the humans lift their heads, looking confused, and he hears someone comment loudly about loud-ass dogs. But the moment is brief, fleeting, and their heads drop again within the minute. The howl had been barely audible over the music, anyways. For them at least.

For Terra, the howl is loud and _piercing._ He winces and just barely stops himself from clapping his hands over his ears. He finds himself turning in the direction it came from, staring into the night with a pensive, pained expression.

The chances of it being that same young werewolf from before, he reasons, are not necessarily that high. There are likely to be other werewolves in this city. And he never even heard the boy howl before. How can he be able to recognize it?

Terra tries to convince himself to remain, to continue the hunt, to not pursue the wolf child he drove away.

He fails to convince himself.

Almost robotically, Terra finds himself moving in the direction of the howl, teeth grit. Shouldering through the mass of people, exiting the core of the downtown, and heading towards a city park, mostly deserted. _This_ is a dangerous area to be in, and he moves quickly, following scent now instead of sound.

He finds Ventus up a tree, huddled on a branch and appearance even scruffier than before. The wolf looks like he’s been thoroughly roughed up, rips in Aqua’s sweater and scrapes and bruises peppering his knees. His nose is bleeding, and there’s a spot on his cheek that looks swollen and purple. He looks up as Terra approaches the tree, and his entire face twists into a pained expression, before his head drops down again.

This is awkward, it can’t be anything but considering how they last parted ways, but Terra squashes down the twisting feelings of guilt curdling in his stomach. If he’s going to be here, he needs to focus on the present, and not the past.

“What happened to you?” he asks cautiously, keeping his tone flat and uninterested.

“What do you care?” counters Ventus sullenly, not looking up from his knees. Terra winces slightly, before smoothing out his expression with a thick swallow. Of course the boy is mad. Why wouldn’t he be? He clearly knows next to nothing about the rules, and is of the opinion that he was saved by them only to be thrown to the dogs less then twelve hours later. If Terra was him, he’d be pissed too.

But Terra is not Ventus, and he tries to detach himself. Tries to be logical. Caring too much and giving into emotion used to get him in trouble. There needs to be a good reason, one that adheres to the rules, for him to be here.

“If the hunters are making moves,” he replies after a beat of silence, “Even now, it’s important that-,”

“It wasn’t hunters,” snaps Ven sharply. The anger in his expression melts away into something sour and hurt, his bottom lip protruding pitifully. “…It was other werewolves. They-, I bumped into them by accident, and I was…I don’t know. Werewolf packs don’t like other werewolf packs. And they like werewolves without packs even less. So I didn’t think it would go well. But-,”

He wipes at the blood under his nose, smearing it across his hand and lip. Terra’s stomach rumbles traitorously, and he fights to keep his eyes blue.

“-But they smelt vampire on me, on the clothes.” Finishes Ventus, almost begrudgingly, still not lifting his head to meet Terra’s gaze. “And they were…they were more unpleasant than I expected. So I ran away from them and hid in this tree. And here I am. No hunters involved. So it’s got nothing to do with you.”

It sounds like it has _everything_ to do with him, and the guilt that Terra’s been trying so hard to squash down flares up again with a vengeance. It’s crippling, for a moment, and he has to catch his breath. Has to recollect himself before he can respond.

“We tried to warn you,” he counters, as sternly as he can manage. “ _No one_ likes it when we don’t observe the rules-,”

“The rules are _stupid_ ,” interrupts Ventus passionately, his eyes flickering towards Terra before turning back to his knees, “And just another excuse for everyone to be mean to one another. Hunters wouldn’t be such a big threat if we just stuck together. But we never do. We _never_ do.”

Terra can sense a story behind the boy’s words. He can sense a lot of things behind the boy’s words, and it’s getting harder and harder to be practical. Harder and harder to see Ventus as a mortal enemy and not a scared, vulnerable, hurt young boy. They saved him from hunters, they invited him into their nest, and then they threw him out into the street, vulnerable to hunters and the supernatural alike. Where’s the ‘rightness’ in that?”

“You’re probably right about that,” Terra concedes, slowly. As if he can’t believe the words that are coming out of his own mouth. “I…,”

He doesn’t know what to do. The rules. The _rules._ They are the cornerstone upon which they all operate. They’ve been in place for centuries. They’re there for a reason.

But before times got dire. Before Xehanort’s coven closed in on them and cornered them, before they all had to harden their hearts, the Master used to preach kindness above all else. He spoke of peace, and wisdom, and chivalry, and unity. Before the darkness consumed him, he spoke of light.

Ventus’s eyes are shining in the moonlight, his head finally lifted from his knees as he stares at Terra. He looks confused, and he looks…hopeful. Or rather, he looks like he’s trying his very best _not_ to hope.

Terra takes a deep breath.

“Aqua might not change her mind,” he begins, “So even if _I_ were to say, hypothetically, that maybe you could travel with us, for a short amount of time. She might still say no.” That’s a possibility, but a thin one. Aqua’s bleeding heart is almost as bad as his, especially when it comes to kids.

“ _Are_ you saying that then?” asks Ventus, eyes lighting up, “Are you saying that I can travel with you? A werewolf with a pair of vampires?” He pulls himself up onto this feet, and then jumps down off the branch, landing silently on the grass in front of Terra. He’s a foot shorter than the vampire, but he holds himself up and tries to meet his gaze anyways, tries to be challenging. “What about ‘the rules’?” he asks, sounding belligerent but looking a little nervous, like he’s afraid Terra will change his mind.

“When we were younger, our Master used to tell us something a little strange.”

Both of their heads turn as a voice comes from the side, and they see Aqua, coming towards them. She may have used magic to travel, for neither of them to detect her, but Terra’s glad she’s here. He’s always trusted her judgement more.

The relief that rushes through him when she smiles at him, and at Ven, almost sends him to his knees.

“Our Master used to say,” she continues, “That there are some rules that are meant to be changed.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware the tense did funky things. I actually didn't see the prompts for this until the night of October 2nd, so I've been rushing to catch up and stay on schedule. Sorry, not my best.


End file.
